


The Saltwater Room

by theamateurexpert



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Some Intimacy/Touching, lighthouse au, unspecified time period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theamateurexpert/pseuds/theamateurexpert
Summary: Martin had never been interested in being a lightkeeper, let alone an apprentice to one. But when he loses his job unexpectedly, he finds himself desperately in need of a new one. He may be out of his depth, but that won't stop him from making it work.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	The Saltwater Room

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for day 1 of ~*~PeterMartin Week 2020~*~!
> 
> I'm completely unprepared for this event, but wanted to do as much as I could. I'm still pretty new to the TMA fandom, but I adore this ship, and thought this might be a good opportunity to break the ice.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and I'm going to try to get a NSFW piece done for this week too, so keep an eye out if that's something that catches your fancy!

Martin had been stationed at the lighthouse with Peter for nearly a year. He still hadn’t acclimated to the cold and damp that surrounded the island, despite living in London his whole life.

It was different though, Martin insisted. More intense.

Unfortunately, the weather was part of the arrangement, so regardless of his feelings on the situation, Martin had to make do.

He had never been interested in being a lightkeeper, let alone an apprentice to one, but his previous job had ended abruptly, and he found himself desperately needing employment.

Luckily, Mr. Bouchard had been kind enough to extend an offer of work with a business associate of his, and Martin didn’t have to think too hard before accepting the position.

However, the first time he laid eyes on the large, melancholy stone lighthouse and small, shabby cabin, Martin wondered if he had wronged Elias somehow and was being punished.

Meeting Peter face-to-face the first time did nothing to assuage that fear.

The tall, broad man had loomed over Martin, thick white hair messily leading into a surprisingly well maintained beard. His voice was soft, but confident, as he explained Martin’s duties around their shared living space as well as the maintenance of the lighthouse itself. 

Martin had absorbed most of the information, but his mind began to wander and he questioned if he would be out of his depth.

As the brief, but informative, tour came to an end, Martin made a comment about his unease. Peter laughed, said something dismissive, and left promptly, as if he couldn’t stand to be in Martin’s presence for a moment longer.

Standing in the cabin, unsure what to do with himself, Martin had his first real taste of loneliness in that place.

But certainly not the last.

By far, the first week had been the worst.

Martin kept up with his responsibilities as best as he could, but there was a lot to be done. Despite his best efforts, tasks slipped through the cracks of Martin’s day and he worried that it could be the end of his employment.

Fortunately, Peter wasn’t harsh or cruel to Martin for his mistakes. But, he certainly didn’t do too much to encourage Martin either.

Most of their conversations were Peter reminding Martin to do something, and then Peter would be on his way again.

By the end of the second day, Martin had looked down to his red and sore hands. He had spent the better part of the day moving and sorting the supply crates that had arrived with him, and the exhaustion was catching up with him.

As Martin prodded the blistering flesh, he chided himself for becoming lazy. He had worked several jobs involving hard labor, but his last job had been in an office and was much more relaxed. In an administrative position, the most likely injury was a _paper cut_.

 _But this--_ Martin thought, as he looked down at his hands, _this_ reminded Martin that he had to do better, had to be stronger, and he resolved to use the pain as inspiration.

That did nothing to make the night feel any less empty.

He had always shared his living space with others, mostly his mother. After her passing, he found boarding with coworkers or acquaintances when he could. He didn’t make meaningful connections with them, but their presences had been somewhat comforting.

Peter, though--Peter seemed determined to be as far away from Martin at any given time.

It was simple enough to accomplish, as Peter had the night watch of tending the lighthouse, and Martin would handle any remaining duties during the day.

The only time they were really near each other was when they shared meals together, but even then, it was infrequent.

The first few times Martin attempted polite conversation, Peter had answered shortly and with little interest. It didn’t take long for Martin to give up and let the pair fall into silence. Peter seemed content with that arrangement, so Martin didn’t press further.

Martin had considered leaving his post.

It was never a serious deliberation, but it did cross his mind.

But once Martin began to get comfortable in his routine, the doubt retreated and curled up in the back of his mind. Out of the forefront, but still present.

Some days, he’d find his resolve weakened, and he’d crave connection. Martin couldn’t help but feel guilty for subjecting Peter to conversation, but it didn’t stop him.

On one unremarkable day, Peter found Martin looking through some old and worn logbooks before supper, and began to regale Martin with stories from his past.

From then on, Peter would pepper an account or two in their interactions, speaking fondly of voyages to destinations of interest, such as tropical islands and frozen landscapes.

Martin had never been much of a traveler, so the stories enthralled him, even when Peter talked about the mundane trading routes he had worked for his family’s business.

Over time, Peter even began to initiate small conversations with Martin. Nothing thought provoking or too meaningful, but it was something Martin looked forward to.

They rarely got on the topic of their personal lives, but when they did, they didn’t dwell too long on it. Neither seemed too keen to keep it going, so they’d divert to another subject.

They carried on like that for a while, and Martin had made peace with it.

He had grown comfortable enough to withstand the isolation, but he couldn’t deny that his heart would jump when he’d catch sight of Peter returning for the day.

At first, Martin chalked it up to genuine companionship, the need to forge a connection with another person. But his mind was kind enough to provide him with a _vivid_ dream to put an end to that theory.

And so, Martin found himself _wanting_.

He didn’t know the full limit of his want, but he knew what was driving him.

Martin began watching Peter. Before, he would simply acknowledge Peter and move on, but now, he let his gaze linger. He’d observe Peter’s walks along the shoreline and savor them.

He never tried to accompany Peter, but the temptation was there.

The walks consisted mostly of the older man walking the path, lost in thought, and occasionally stopping to look up to the sky. Peter was too far away for Martin to see his expression, but closing his eyes, Martin tried to imagine what it was that Peter was seeing.

Once, Martin had even gone out and done the very same thing on his own, staring up at the grey, gloomy sky.

It didn’t mean anything to Martin, but he wondered what it meant to Peter. And what it _could_ mean for himself.

In that moment, an intrusive thought made him wonder if Peter had ever watched him, the way he watched Peter. It sent a warm wave up Martin’s spine and he shuddered gently.

He nervously glanced up to the house and was relieved to only see empty windows.

Some small part of him was disappointed, but that was another complication Martin didn’t want to deal with.

That night, Martin had another dream.

When he awoke, he couldn’t quite string all the images and story together, but he remembered Peter. Unsurprisingly.

In the dream, they had been facing each other, surrounded by nothing except for a persistent and unending fog. A thicker fog than what they experienced almost daily.

Despite the cold, Martin felt warmth and comfort. He felt _safe_.

He had felt the warmth radiating from Peter.

Then, the fog began to swirl around, and through Peter. Before it could engulf him, Martin felt a wave of warmth, and found his face was pressed into Peter’s chest. Martin tried to look up, but the fog came crashing down, and he awoke, with tears streaming down his face.

He pushed himself up and wiped the tears away.

Nervously, Martin glanced out the window, and saw the glow from the lighthouse piercing through the misty veil. His heart squeezed, and for a moment he thought of getting dressed and going to Peter, but the weight of his tired limbs kept him rooted in bed.

He suddenly became aware of how heavy his eyelids felt, and slowly, he laid down again.

Wrapping his blanket tightly around himself, Martin closed his eyes and tried to slip back into that image of him and Peter, and the feeling it brought him.

Sleep eventually washed over him again, but he did not dream.

Martin woke up exhausted the next morning.

He replayed the dream in his head, as he would throughout the entire day.

The lighthouse grounds weren’t so large that Peter and Martin would go the whole day without seeing the other. And yet, Martin didn’t catch a glimpse of Peter as he cleaned and filled the lamps. Or when he went out to fetch more firewood.

Martin had been alone many days, but always knew in the back of his mind that Peter was there. But now, Martin felt a pang of fear.

This wasn’t the loneliness he had grown to know.

No, this was something that he wanted no part of.

After a few hours, Martin abandoned his duties and dressed in heavy clothes, then made his way up the gravelly path to the lighthouse.

He felt foolish, like a child seeking out his parents after enduring a nightmare. 

But he didn’t care. Martin just wanted to see Peter, and then, he could move on.

Martin craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Peter in the lighthouse above, but saw nothing. He made the trek up the long, stone spiral staircase, and when he reached the top, he only saw ever present fog.

It was possible that they were passing each other by mere minutes, Martin assured himself. But then, the dull fear slowly crept back into Martin’s mind. It sent him rushing back down the stairs, and outside.

He cried out Peter’s name loudly, but there was no response.

Martin’s mind began to supply all sorts of scenarios, and he moved quickly to make sure that none of them had happened.

By the time he had circled the area a few times, Martin was panting. Through gasps, he called for Peter.

Nothing.

Martin heard _nothing_ but the crash of waves, and his own shallow breaths.

Peter had taught Martin how to secure help if it was needed, but it hadn’t been long enough for Martin to put that into motion.

_Had it been?_

Martin wasn’t sure how long he had been looking for Peter, but then realized just how late it was getting.

The sky was growing dark, and Martin heard the first few drops of rain hit the ground, before he felt them.

More joined in, pattering the stone and grass around him, and Martin came to a realization with a shuddering breath.

He was alone.

He was _alone_.

Martin fell to his knees.

Raindrops dashed across his face, but he didn’t mind. They grounded him, in a way.

As Martin sat and took a shuddering breath, his dream came to him again. 

He remembered the warmth, but it couldn’t remember how it _felt_.

Shivering slightly, Martin whispered quiet words of placation, desperately wanting to feel that comforting sensation. But the cold persisted, and the rain grew heavier and more insistent, dissipating the fog around Martin.

Martin closed his eyes and sunk into the bracing hold of the rain for what felt like hours.

Then, suddenly, the world fell silent.

Idly, Martin lifted his head and looked around, wondering what had changed.

The rain was falling harder, but made no sound and the mist had receded. Along the soft edges, he could see something moving just on the other side.

With newfound conviction, Martin scrambled forward and the fog parted for him.

Every time he got closer, the figure would disappear again, leading Martin along the shoreline.

He knew it wasn’t his eyes tricking him, and he refused to relent until he caught up to the looming, echoing shadow.

As he passed the lighthouse once more, Martin saw something out of the corner of his eye.

Farther ahead, down the path was a large figure, staring up at the sky.

Martin’s heart jumped and he moved forward, calling Peter’s name through the silent rainfall.  
Surprise passed across Peter’s face, but before he could say anything, Martin reached him, and grabbed the lapels of Peter’s coat, staring intently into his eyes.

“I see you,” Martin whispered hoarsely. “You’re--you’re _here_.”

Peter met Martin’s gaze, and his brow furrowed. “So I am. How did you--”

Swallowing hard, Martin reached for Peter’s face, pulling him down into a deep, crushing kiss.

As soon as they were pressed against one another, warmth burst out and around Martin, just as it had in his dream.

Peter moved back from the kiss, but was quick to catch Martin’s chin and keep it tilted upwards.

“I should’ve known,” Peter murmured. He ran his rough, calloused thumb over Martin’s lip. He laughed softly to himself, then leaned down, returning the kiss.

It was confident and firm. The kind of kiss Martin only dared dream of.

A strong hand pressed against Martin’s back, and he made a noise of surprise, which only drew Peter in further.

By the time the kiss broke between them, Martin was breathing heavily, and he looked to Peter, reveling in the moment.

Peter’s lips tugged into a gentle smile, but there was something fierce and wild in his eyes.

“Oh, Martin--” Peter said, stroking Martin’s cheek with an equal amount of reverence, “--I am so _very_ pleased by this development.”

Martin suspected Peter was alluding to more than what had just happened between them, but said nothing.

In any case, Martin was quite inclined to agree.


End file.
